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He’s not talking about Naomi. Or his ex-fiancée, who I also know about from my digging. I wonder if we’d be having this conversation at this point if we were like any other two people, any other budding couple. My insides tighten. Probably not because these are the kinds of things it’s hard to air. As though the light of day and a little attention will scar even worse than letting them sit inside you and rot.
“I know all about you. I know things even your mother doesn’t know,” I quip.
Surprisingly, he chuckles. “I’m pretty sure you’re right about that. There is a lot about me I keep from my parents. It's better. I don’t want them getting hurt when they realize their only son is actually a steaming pile of crap.”
“It’s isolating, though,” I insist. “And take it from me. I understand isolation.” Except I have a gut feeling both of us have options there. We chose our lives. We chose to operate the way we do. And both of us chose to cut ourselves off from our past in what sometimes feels like an irrevocable way.
“Layla and I met at the academy. She got under people’s skin because she’s brash. Was.” He corrects himself, resigned, running his hand up and down my arm in a comforting gesture. “She spoke her mind, took no shit, and people hated watching a woman half their size kick their dicks into the dirt.”
“You gravitated toward her.”
“Her attitude was fantastic and meshed with mine, even when her brashness shifted to rashness. Drop the b.”
“Maybe she justbecamethe B.” I giggle a little at my own joke.
“That too,” he agrees. “She didn’t care about the color of my skin when a few other people did. It wasn’t a big deal to take a bullet for her. I’ll miss her every single day until I die and join her in whatever hell waits for people like us.”
“You do good, Devan. A lot of good for a lot of people. If there’s a hell waiting for anyone, it’s me. Don’t try to tell me otherwise.” I place my hand on his chest, feeling his heart. Wishing I could touch skin instead and wind my fingers through his soft, black hair.
“I’m not here to get into the weight of our souls tonight, Aria. I can only tell you how I see you, and I see a woman who is worth so much more than she thinks. A woman who has no idea how powerful she really is.
The solemnity of his words touch me, somewhere no amount of physical penetration has ever come close to before. Rather than letting him see the way my lips tremble, I button them and turn slightly to hide my expression with a sweep of hair.
“You don’t know how hard it is for me to not go back to Ashcroft and talk to him about all this.”
I stiffen. “Devan—”
“I want to come clean. I want him to know I'm not doing what I do because I’ve defected or any kind of crap like that.”
“If you bring anyone else in, there’s a chance Broderick will come after me.”
Devan stiffens. “He terrifies you.”
“I think he always has, but I’ve never let myself really feel it. I always excused the sensation as something else, something a little bit more palatable. But yes, he scares me. He’s a man with no morals or scruples. No compass to guide him.”
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Aria. If he touches you again, then I’ll fucking kill him. It won’t be a slow or easy death, either.”
This time, I tremble for a completely different reason. “As much as I’d love for you to paint me a picture of exactly what you’d do to him, I need you to promise me you won’t go to the precinct with this.”
“Sooner or later, I’m going to have to,” he says. “I’m still a detective. I’ve got this case and a lot of others on my plate.”
“Devan.”
“For some reason, I actually hate hearing you call me that.”
“Please.” I’m close to begging. “Wait a little while longer.”
“I’m not sure I have a little while longer.” He cuddles me closer. “I can protect you.”
“I know you can’t. Not against Broderick. And you won’t be fast enough to take him down before he makes me pay. Leave it to me,” I hurry to say. “I know a plan that will bring him down.”
“Why am I worried?”
“We should all be worried. This isn’t kiddie hour where we're talking about a bully on a playground. This is a madman.”
“Then what’s your plan?” he asks.
“I’ll show him I’m all in.” It’s simple. At least, in my mind. “I’ll tell him I’ve found something, and then we’ll take him down when his guard is lowered.”
